


Old Ally

by Szarka



Category: Captain America (Movies), Защитники; Zaschitniki︱The Guardians (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Amnesia, Canon-Typical Violence, Friendship, Gen, Post-Canon for Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014), Pre-Canon for The Guardians (2017)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-07 11:12:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18619471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Szarka/pseuds/Szarka
Summary: Xenia has long since accepted two things: One, she’s got superpowers, and hasn’t aged a day in forty years. Two, she doesn’t remember anything that happened before those forty years. She now lives a quiet life in Moscow, and keeps a low profile.Until one day, a man turns up on her doorstep. His memories, too, are full of blanks, but he still claims that he knows her. And he needs her help, because people are chasing him, and he’s got nowhere else to turn.A Guardians / Winter Soldier fusion AU.





	Old Ally

**Author's Note:**

> I loved the idea behind The Guardians since I first heard of it, because RUSSIAN SUPERHEROES!! Such a cool way to bring in a different perspective into this genre! 
> 
> The movie itself is of course… Not great. While probably also not as terrible as it could have been. I am still so sorry about it, because RUSSIAN SUPERHEROES!!
> 
> So yeah, I was always going to write for it. I had this idea that Xenia and Bucky would probably be good friends given a chance, so here you go. I started this story over a year ago, than let it be, and finally came back and finished it. Not sure about the result, probably because the movie really failed in giving the characters their own voice, so… Idk. 
> 
> I do maintain that there is lots of really good unused potential here. Writing this story out of Xenia’s POV was fun, because it gives the usual MCU things an interesting twist. 
> 
> Stuff that I changed:  
> \- There has been a Soviet superhero group between the 50s and the 80s (ish), called the “Guardians of the Fatherland”. They then dissolved, and form again during the events of The Guardians. They change their name to “the Guardians” to stress that this is a different age.  
> \- HYDRA infiltrated both SHIELD and PATRIOT. So Xenia’s superiors would have had access to their tech and resources and brainwashed assassins whenever they needed. During the events of The Winter Soldier, the SHIELD / HYDRA association is revealed and PATRIOT reacts fast enough, so that they manage to weed out the HYDRA agents before they could start a similar disaster.  
> \- Did or did not the Government know about the Red Room Program? Who knows. Certainly not Xenia.  
> \- Steve and Bucky are both biromantic bisexual.

Xenia had been working only two months at the circus when her past caught up with her.

At least,  _ one _ part of her past. Not a big or important one, according to him, but she had no way of verifying this, and his memories seemed about as unreliable as hers, so who knows.

It was late in the evening, and the blonde athlete was just leaving the circus for the night, tired after a long day's practice and the evening performance, and overcome by a sadness that she couldn't quite grasp. She knew this sadness well, it had become a near-constant companion over the years, with no way left for Xenia to escape it. Her loneliness, both past and present, her old age, her missing memories, half-remembered moments of pain related to her powers, her powers themselves, her inability to fit in, whispered names behind her back… It all weighed heavily on her and made Xenia want to crawl away in an underwater hole and never come out again. But she couldn't. She never could. The world marched on, and Xenia got dragged along, whether she liked it or not.

Xenia was usually very attentive. She seemed to know instinctively how dangerous strangers on the street or twilight spaces could be, knew the strategic strong- and weak points of any location, and was ready to fight off an attacker at any moment. But this evening, it was different. She was tired, and she just  _ didn't care _ .

Therefore, she only noticed the man hiding in the shadows a few meters ahead of her when he spoke.

“Xenia. Former Guardian of the Fatherland.”

Xenia jumped a little, and her body tensed, ready to either run for it, or to defend herself against an assault. She still couldn't see the man's face, only the shape of him between the shadows.

“Who are you?”, called she.

“You knew me as the Winter Soldier. We were on four different missions together. January 4 to January 20, 1957, July 7, 1961, December 10, 1962, and March 14 to April 1, 1968.”

Well, that was interesting. And really, really, scary. In thirty-six years, Xenia had never met anyone from  _ before.  _ Nor had she met anyone else with powers, and she preferred it that way. Keeping a low profile was what had kept her safe, while the world around her changed and moved on, leaving her alone, timeless. But unharmed. 

There  _ were _ other people similar to her, as the world had learned since that American businessman had revealed himself to be a so-called superhero, but Xenia had never felt tempted to seek them out. She didn't have anything in common with them. And they were all Americans. Even Black Widow, who was originally Russian, had changed sides a long time ago. Xenia loved her mother country, and wouldn't have dreamt of considering leaving it for a group of strangers who might or might not want to have anything to do with her in the first place. She might not have known what was in her past, but she was very sure that it wasn't good, and didn't want to repeat it.

The stranger was not one of the American group, or she would have recognized him. His accent was from Moscow.

But he wasn't a normal civilian, either. He spoke of missions he'd been on fifty-seven years ago, but he wasn't an old man. He moved with the fluidity of a young and well-trained sportsman, and his voice sounded young.

“I'm afraid that I can't help you,” said Xenia coolly. “I don't have the faintest idea what you're talking about.”

“You are Xenia. The woman whose body transforms into liquid, and who becomes invisible in water.”

“As anyone knows who watched the show. If you hope to find out my secret, than I must disappoint you. The only people who know how this illusion works are me and my team.”

“Except that it is no illusion. It is the result of the same experiments that gave you your superhuman strength, and that keep you from aging.“

So much for trying to bluff herself out of this one.

“Whatever you are hoping to achieve, I cannot help you. I don't remember anything from my past.”

“Neither do I.”

“But the dates...”

“Let's just say that I knew where my file was kept.”

Interesting. The blank emptiness that was her past was what haunted Xenia the most. She would have given  _ anything _ to find out more about it.

“Do you know where they keep  _ mine _ ?”

The stranger shook his head. Xenia could have sworn that she heard regret in his voice.

“I'm afraid not. We worked for different organizations. Your superiors only didn't have any scruples calling in favors from mine when it suited their purpose.”

That last bit was bitter, she was sure about that.

“Than what do you want?”

“I need your help.”

“I told you, I don't know anything. Go away.”

She tried to walk on, but he stepped in her path. He was a big man, that much was obvious. However, it was all that she could tell, because he was wearing a huge coat covering his shape, and hid his face beneath a scarf and a hat. Those clothes were definitely too warm for the season. Xenia knew, because, not being able to feel the change in temperature, she had to make each day a conscious effort to dress appropriately. It was mid autumn, and while it was getting cool, the winter was not there yet.

“I need a place to lay low for a while. Everyone is after me, and I don't know who I can trust. I didn't exactly make many friends during the past seventy years.”

“Than why come to me?”

He hesitated.

“I am beginning to regain some of my memories. I think I can trust you.”

“Answer me one question first.”

The man remained motionless, waiting. Xenia knew that it was a yes. She pulled her ring from her finger, and gave it him. Her heart was beating so fast that she almost couldn't hear her own voice.

“This engraved ring. Do you know who gave it to me?”

He took it silently, and observed it closely. It was a simple gold ring, with the words  _ my dear Xenia _ engraved into it.

“No. You did not have it when I knew you.”

He handed the ring back to her, and Xenia put it on, trying to hide her disappointment.

“Whatever. Come with me, stranger.”

At some point, she must have had a mother. At some point, that mother must have told her not to bring home any strange men. But Xenia couldn't remember her, and frankly, on that mid autumn evening in Moscow, she didn't really care.

―――  
  


Xenia lived in a small flat that was all in all unremarkable. It was cheap, and therefore not in a very good neighborhood. There wasn't anything decorative in it. Xenia's only valuable possessions were the many diaries and photo albums documenting her past since that certain day in 1978, the first day of her remembered life. She had learned not to trust her memory that day, and made sure to put everything important on paper since. She also had digital copies, but she didn't trust with her past anything that needed electricity to function. The paper diaries and photo albums persisted.

She unlocked the door and stepped aside for her visitor to enter. He did, but carefully, as if he were expecting an ambush. That was one thing that Xenia had noticed about him: He payed attention to how he walked, light-footed, always keeping himself enough room for sudden movement, and never exposing his back. It was, all in all, not very different of the way she moved herself.

Only after she'd closed and locked the door did he take off his hat and scarf. It was the first time that Xenia saw his face. He was very handsome, that much was clear, but he also looked tired and worn out. He had long, dark hair, originally neatly held together by an elastic, but the hat had messed it up, so that half of it was hanging in his face. His facial hair was messy enough to show that he hadn't tended to it for a few days, and his eyes… He had warm, brown eyes, that looked just sad. Not Xenia's  _ I can't be bothered with reality any more _ \- sad, for they were very attentive and took in every detail and movement, but not less sad all the same.

They entered the kitchen, which was the only room beside the bath- and bedrooms, and the stranger sat down in Xenia's favorite chair, the one that was standing in a way that she could keep both the door and the window in her sight. He was still tense.

“All right,” said Xenia. “Tell me everything.”

The man hesitated for a moment, than leant forward and spoke in a somewhat lowered voice.

“Ever heard of HYDRA?”

Xenia snorted.

“It is difficult not to. Have you even seen the news these past few months?”

HYDRA was a terrorist organization that had infiltrated SHIELD, the big American secret organization that pretended to be international.  _ Powerful _ and  _ dangerous _ were the two terms Xenia would have used to describe them. They were the one responsible for the Avengers Initiative, the superhero group. SHIELD being compromised had shocked the world, and the media had not stopped jumping around on it since.

The man opened his battered backpack, and pulled out a paper file, which he placed on the table. Xenia picked it up. She had expected it to be old, but it was not. The folder looked like something she could buy at any moment in the paper shop near the circus, except for the red 'TOP SECRET' stamp on it. And for the big red skull in a circle at the top that she'd seen enough on the news to get bored of the subject.

“Until recently, HYDRA had a… program. Codename the Winter Soldier. An enhanced assassin who would mindlessly carry out all of their orders and make any undesirable people disappear. There are more files, but this was the only one I could get.”

The papers in the file all had vastly different ages, seemingly randomly assembled from all over the past seventy-ish years. On the top was a black-and-white photograph of a young man in a soldier's uniform. An American uniform, as Xenia stated somewhat surprised. One of the old ones she knew from pictures and movies from World War Two. It was without doubt the same man as the one sitting at her kitchen table, even though he'd grown his hair and seemed to be somewhat bigger and more muscular now.

The name on the folder said  _ James Buchanan Barnes _ .

“What happened?”

“I'm…. I'm not sure. Something went very wrong on my last mission.”

“The one we saw on the news?”

“Yes. It's… It's not… There was a man on a bridge...”

Barnes rubbed his face. He was still wearing his gloves, Xenia noticed.

“I regained enough of my mind to run away. I've been on the run since, but there are… There are people after me. I don't know what will happen if they catch me.”

“How many?”

“I can't tell. Everything went up in chaos after SHIELD fell. What is left of them, certainly. And HYDRA, they're not neutralized, just scattered. Others who'd got enough pieced together from what Black Widow uploaded to the Internet. Secret services from different nations. Maybe independent individuals. Wherever I turn, someone is there, waiting for me. I've used up all the safe houses and hiding places I know.”

“ _ And you just decided that it would be a good idea to bring all those people to my house?!” _

“You can handle them.”

“I can… That is not the point! I meant what I said when I told you that I was done. I only want a normal life now.”

“Me too.”

There was a long and uncomfortable silence after that. At the end, Barnes nodded slowly.

“All right. Will you let me stay for one night?”

Xenia shrugged.

“Doesn't make much difference any more, I suppose. But I want you out of my house by the time I leave for work.”

―――  
  


They had leftover soup for dinner. Barnes was hungry, even if he did his best not to show it. Hungry enough that Xenia ended up making him a buttered bread with honey, as dessert, as she pretended.

“This is good honey,” said she. “From a farmer in Siberia. Siberian honey is the best in the world, you'll see.”

Barnes smiled gratefully and devoured the bread in no time. Xenia almost asked when his last proper meal had been, but decided against it. She guessed that it would be impolite, and none of her business any ways. Apart from that, she really shouldn't risk feeling sorry for him, she didn't want to do anything stupid out of pity. It was not how she operated.  _ Every man on his own. Always. _

The rest of the evening was spent without any talk. It seemed that they both didn't feel the need for more words than necessary, something that set Xenia even more apart from her chattering colleagues. Having someone to be around silently was…. Nice. Barnes excused himself after dinner and disappeared in the bathroom for a short time, after which he reappeared, cleanly shaven and his still damp hair neatly bound together. After that, they both sat in the kitchen, Xenia with her old laptop and Barnes with a latest model Stark Tech one, she reading the news and looking at the weather forecast, he typing something at an amazing speed.

Xenia only had one bed, and of course no couch or mattress, so she made her visitor a nest on the carpet by stapling her spare bedlinen and adding a cushion and a blanket. When she showed him in the bedroom (the only one she had) and he saw it, he froze and stared.

“Are you all right?”, asked Xenia, with growing alarm as he didn't react. “Barnes?”

After a few seconds, he blinked and shook his head, than looked around, as if he were only just realizing where he was.

“Sorry. I… We don't share the bed?”

“Now listen!”, started Xenia, beginning to get upset. “I already let you stay in my house, but if you think that I will let you in my bed just like that, you disgusting...”

Barnes shook his head, still that distant look on his face.

“No! No, not like that, just...” He looked around again, as if searching for some answers in the room. “Isn't it normal? In an apartment. People always share the bed.”

“No they don't!”

He didn't appear to have heard her, shaking his head and continuing to mutter to himself.

“No. That's not right. People don't share the bed. I know that. Just… I… We always shared the bed. That  _ was _ normal. Wasn't it?”

“We? You mean when we worked together? Barnes?”

He still didn't react to her questions. Instead, he just went straight to his improvised bed and sat down, hugging his knees and pressing his forehead against them, a very attractive heap of misery.

“Barnes?”

Finally, he looked up, his eyes wet from unshod tears.

“I'm sorry. I didn't want to be disrespectful.”

“What was that all about?”

He sighed.

“I get these flashbacks since I've run away. Too long without processing, I guess. I know that they mean something, but I can't… It really only lasts for a few moments, and what I don't grasp by the time it passes, that I will forget at once.”

“Is this your memories coming back?”

“I think so. Sometimes it's these flashbacks, sometimes I just remember things, faces, names, dates, I usually can't place them. Sometimes I have dreams, but even if I remember them by the time I wake up, I can't tell what part of them was real and what was not.”

Xenia was a little lost for words. She did feel for him, of course she did. But more so, she was jealous. Fragmented and disconnected flashes were still better than no memories at all, and he did say that he'd only started to regain them a few months ago?

“Maybe it will get better with time,” offered she.

“I think so… I hope so.”

He lay down without undressing first. Not that Xenia could blame him, she too didn't feel like taking off her clothes in front of a stranger. It probably also had something to do with him being on the run, he must have gotten used to needing to get up and going as fast as possible. That there was a possible third reason only occurred to her when she noticed that he was still wearing his gloves.

“Damn it!”, hissed Xenia, and jumped out of the bed to get to the thermometer at the other end of the room. 7°C. No surprise that the poor man was cold. For her, it was a perfectly good temperature. Sub-zero temperatures were a problem because the water risked freezing in the pipes, so she did her best to always stay above that. 7°C was  _ good,  _ it left her more than enough room for mistakes without becoming a waste of gas. Anybody else must have been  _ freezing _ .

'I'm sorry,' apologized she. Her gas-poker was in the bathroom, right? She found it, and hurried to the heating body in the bedroom, only to realize on that the gas in the bathroom wasn't burning, either. Barnes must have washed himself with ice cold water, and never even complained about it.

“I just usually don't heat at this time of the year, and I don't feel the cold, so I completely forgot…

She reached the heating body, and knelt down to turn up the gas, fiddling with her poker. Barnes watched her, leaning on one elbow.

“It's fine,” interrupted he her rambling. “I don't feel the cold like normal people do, either.”

Xenia turned around and stared at him in surprise, the gas now burning with a blue flame behind her.

“Than why the gloves?”, asked she.

“To hide my hands.”

Xenia accepted this explanation with a nod and no questions. She looked back at the heating body.

“I'll just leave the gas on minimum, then,” decided she.

―――  
  


Xenia lay awake for long that night, letting the events of the evening run through her head over and over again, as if looking for some detail she'd missed. Barnes was asleep, but he was having nightmares, making pained sounds all the time. They weren't words, just muffled moans and little screams that sounded as if only a part of them escaped his mouth.

In the end, Xenia gave up and went to the kitchen, where the file was still lying on an unused chair, where she had left it. She picked it up and started to read, this time thoroughly instead of just scanning it over. That was how she learned about the Winter Soldier program.

According to his file, James Barnes had in some way been experimented upon that made him super strong and resistant to hardship, although without Xenia's special powers. HYDRA had then proceeded to mindwash him somehow, and use him as an assassin for special operations, wiping his memories after each mission. They then froze him until the next time he was needed. What she held in her hand was a seemingly random collection of missions and health reports, probably meant for someone who already knew the basics. There was nothing in it about Barnes personally. Not who he had been before the experiment, no area of specialty, no collection of weak points. As if he as a person had never existed. Only as a weapon. Most of the time, they didn't even use his name, they just called him  _ the asset _ .

Xenia put down the file and stared at the HYDRA symbol without really seeing it. Was this it? Was this what her faith had been like, too? No past, no life, not even a name except for a title given to her?

She pulled the ring from her finger. Her gold ring, the only thing left her from her past life. It was a simple gold band, the only thing special about it were the engraved words.  _ My dear Xenia. _ She only knew her name because of that ring.

Someone had given it to her. Someone had loved her, enough to call her  _ my dear _ , enough to buy her a personalized ring from a goldsmith. She had been somebody's  _ dear Xenia _ , not just a nameless tool.

Maybe, thought Xenia, maybe her past wasn't as dark as that of Barnes.

When she returned to her room, her visitor had calmed down and was now sleeping motionlessly, stretched out on his back, his arms lying neatly next to his body. Somehow it all seemed disturbingly unnatural, as if he's been trained to keep the position, even in his sleep.

At that moment, Xenia decided that she would help him after all.

―――

 

“I looked you up on the Internet this morning.”

Barnes looked up from his breakfast.

“Did you really work with Captain America?”

“It's what Wikipedia says. I have been to the Captain America exposition at the Smithsonian, and I really do look a bit like his friend. That's all I know. I don't remember anything about him.”

This was followed by some awkward silence.

“I'm sorry,” said Xenia softly at the end.

“Not your fault,” shrugged Barnes.

Before they could fall into another awkward silence, Xenia tried to lighten the mood.

“This does make you the most famous person that I have ever met. Should I now ask you for your autograph or something?”

Barnes smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

“I wouldn't count on that. The Guardians of the Fatherland were big players in their time. The Soviet Union as we know it wouldn't have existed, had it not been for you.”

“What do you remember?”

“Not much, just the name, and I feel that it was important. I also couldn't find anything about you online, which means that somebody must have gone through a whole lot of trouble to erase you from history.”

Xenia had not even been on the list targeting the people deemed dangerous for HYDRA. She had checked. It was a long and thorough list, containing an alarming number of civilians who'd never done a harmful thing in their lives. But Xenia, the ageless girl with the superpowers, was not on it, at least not under any name she recognized. Part of it definitely was just her keeping a low profile, but Barnes was right, somebody must have helped her.

Talking about helping…

“If I let you stay, what would happen?”

“As long as nothing unexpected happens? I'd stay indoors, lay low as much as possible. I can leave false trails over the Internet, hack into security systems and insert my picture, and I've taken precautions before I came here. All in all, I should have bought myself at least a month. I need to use that time to rest and to come up with a plan. HYDRA still has much information about me that I don't know, and I need to get it.”

“So HYDRA really isn't finished yet?”

“ _ You cut off one head, two more shall take its place. _ No, they're not, but they are the weakest they have been since the end of WWII. At the moment, they are mostly small splitter groups that haven't reorganized themselves yet. If I ever stand a chance, than now. Some of their most important bases have been in Russia. I need to...” Barnes rubbed his face. He still seemed exhausted.

“What are the odds that you'll find something about me?”, asked Xenia.

“I don't know,” answered Barnes. “HYDRA had information about everything and everyone. I don't know where that information is kept how much of it they destroyed. But I promise you that if I find something about the Guardians of the Fatherland, I will contact you.”

Xenia sighed and got up to collect the dishes.

“You can stay for one week,” said she.

Barnes blinked in surprise and looked up at her with so much gratitude, that Xenia almost regretted her offer. They stared at one another for a moment, than she shook her head and turned away.

“Whatever. I need to go now, before I'm late for work. I'll give you a second house key. Lock the door and keep it locked, especially if you go out, understood?”

―――  
  


For the next three days, Barnes didn't leave the flat. As far as Xenia could tell, he spent all his time on his laptop, which, let's face it, was something that could happen to anybody from time to time. She didn't know what he was doing, and didn't ask, but guessed that it was somewhat different from what normal people spent their free time with online.

After a while, Xenia started to notice small changes in him and his behavior. The first was that he didn't look as exhausted like when he'd arrived. The second that he did some things around the house while she was at work. One day, she would come home to find some hot tea. (She  _ knew _ it was hot because it was still steaming.) The next day, he had cooked her the spaghetti she'd saved for the evening. The kitchen somehow looked cleaner than it had when she'd left. On Saturday, she slept in after the evening's performance and woke up to find that her visitor had bought some fresh bread and two vatrushkas.

Their relationship was very quiet. They didn't talk much more than necessary, even if Barnes payed attention to always ask her what work had been like, to which Xenia would give a short and polite, but also honest answer. He didn't tell her anything interesting after their first morning, probably because there was not much left to tell. There had been no more flashbacks after the story with the bed, and they didn't talk about his nightmares.

At the end of the week, Xenia wasn't sure any more that she wanted him to leave. It was not that she particularly wanted him to be there, either, but they got along well enough, he helped with the cleaning, and it was a nice break from her usual routine. Despite having started a new life multiple times, it felt as if it hadn't changed at all since the early 1990's, since she'd first noticed that she didn't age.

However, things still couldn't continue the way they were.

―――

 

“We need to talk,” said Xenia on Sunday, around two hours before she'd had to leave for her performance.

Barnes looked up from his laptop.

“I know that it is time for me to go. Don't worry, I'll leave tomorrow morning. You have been very good to me, and I am honestly grateful.”

“Any plans for after you leave?”

He shook his head.

“It is safer not to plan too far ahead. Following a plan makes you predictable. I am not ready yet to take the HYDRA base. It will still take weeks, if not months of preparation. Too long to stay in a hotel without attracting attention. I will have to keep moving during that time. I think I'll go South. Down to the Black Sea, spend a little time there, than circle back. Something like that.”

He looked worn down just at the thought.

“What about your followers?”

“No news about them yet. It seems that they are buying my diversion tactics.”

“But you will be in more danger once you actually start traveling, right?”

Barnes sighed.

“Of course I will. From secret agents and normal threats alike. What were you expecting?”

“Nothing. I was just thinking… This works pretty well so far. And you just said that nobody suspects you of being here...”

“The longer I stay, the more I put you in danger, Xenia.”

“I can handle it. You said yourself, remember?”

“That was because I needed your help. I would have told you anything.”

“You still need my help.”

He shook his head, seemingly getting a little frustrated.

“You don't understand! A week ago, it was either find a safe place to spend the night, or possibly die on the street. I was alone, I was tired, I didn't know the terrain, and I didn't have anything to eat. If anyone would have caught up on me in that state, they would have had a serious advantage over me. Since I've been here, I could regain my forces and I have spent some time mapping out the city. Even if you'd throw me out right now, I'd know where I can hide away for the night, and I know which places for a fight could be used in my advantage.  _ I'll be fine. _ You on the other hand… Sooner or later, they will pick up my trail again. If I leave now and we are lucky, than they'll never find out where I was for this one week. The longer I stay, the less likely that is. They will end up finding you, Xenia, and they will tear down every part of your life trying to get information out of you. Now maybe you can take them. Maybe you'll survive. Maybe you'll escape before things get too bad. But either way, this all?” He made a gesture at the flat around them. “This will be over. And I am not going to take that risk after all that you've done for me.”

“It is not your risk to take,” said Xenia. “It is mine.”

“It is mine, too,” replied Barnes.

“Well, in any case, I wouldn't have a problem letting you stay a little longer. But we would have to change some things.”

“Like what?”

“Like deciding that you are my cousin who's visiting me, or something like that. Sooner or later, the neighbors will notice that you are here. And right now, you are still living off my hospitality, so...” Xenia shrugged. “I know that it isn't polite to talk about money, but unfortunately, I don't get paid that much.”

Barnes didn't even blink. He was good at having entire conversations without moving one single muscle on his face. It was probably part of his training.

“How much?”

“I… Haven't decided yet,” admitted Xenia. “I wanted to talk to you first, and do the maths after.”

“What will you do if they come for you?”

“I'll fight my way out, than run. Start over somewhere else. Saint Petersburg, maybe. Somehow I haven't lived in Saint Petersburg yet.”

“I need you to have an emergency escape plan prepared. Do you remember how to make those?”

Xenia hadn't even realized that there  _ was _ some special way to prepare emergency escape plans. Barnes understood her silence correctly.

“I'll help you make one.”

Much to Xenia's surprise, preparing the plans didn't even take the two hours. All she needed was to pack two bags with the bare essentials – clothes, fake papers, cash, and some of her precious photo albums – and hide them somewhere easily accessible – her locker at the circus and also the one she rented at the fitness club. If anything went wrong (she got an entire list of potential danger signs), she was to get the nearest one, extract as much money from her bank account as she could, than get on the first train to Saint Petersburg. Until than, hide somewhere in a crowd, among tourists, if possible. Act as normal and relaxed as she could.

The next morning, they staged his arrival. Xenia left early in the morning for the train station and returned with Barnes, who was dressed casually and had a stuffed backpack hanging over his shoulder. On their way to her apartment, they 'accidentally' run into the nice old lady living on the first floor, who was famous for her gossiping, and Xenia introduced her cousin, James, who was visiting her for a few weeks.

“Is that his real name?”, asked her neighbor, surprised.

“Well...,” Xenia bent a little closer. “Actually, no, but he is  _ obsessed _ with America.”

Her neighbor nodded seriously, that yes, that is what the young people these days are like, his poor parents must have had a difficult time with him, and Xenia nodded along that yes, that was true. None of them had very much contact to their families any more. They listened for a while to how sad that was, and family was important after all, and back in her days, they'd respected their elders, than excused themselves and went to her apartment to 'unpack his things'.

By the evening, the entire apartment block knew that Xenia had a visitor. She was on greeting terms with all of them, but didn't have any friends, so she only got two or three remarks while emptying her mailbox, but no invitations for dinner. Everyone did however seem to have a couple of suggestions of things that her cousin would have to see  _ at all cost _ while he was still there, and Xenia agreed with them (Moscow was, after all, one of the most beautiful cities in the world). And so happened that the pair of them spent the next week visiting landmarks in Xenia's time off.

They both knew Moscow. They both knew Moscow really well. However, Barnes – James, she should remember to call him James now – was familiar with what the city had been like around two or three decades ago, while Xenia was living there in the present. And she knew the city as a normal citizen. She knew the streets around her apartment and her work place in her sleep, and sometimes held excursions to big shops or tourist attractions. James had only fragmented memories from the city, and those were not of the beautiful historical buildings. They were of narrow alleys and hiding places on roofs or in sewers, of abandoned buildings and overgrown backyards. They were disconnected flashes, linked to memories of thirst and sore limbs from lying motionless for hours on a rooftop with a rifle, waiting for the target to reemerge, or to dizziness due to exhaustion after staying awake for days, wearing a too hot black costume that covered way too much of him in the mid-summer heat, but still running down the street faster than any normal human could.

They visited the places that he  _ did _ remember, hoping half heartedly that they would help to awaken some more of his memories, but all that they found was that in thirty years, the city of Moscow had grown and changed, and the empty buildings were no longer standing and the overgrown backyards had been converted to parking lots. Instead, other buildings, ones that had been new and full of life in his days, had taken their place. There were still more than enough hiding places for the Winter Soldier.

James and Xenia wandered in silence between the gray buildings and the normal people living their normal lives, unsuspecting of what a formidable battleground their homes and shops made. Nobody spared them a second glance.

It was nice. Their ways of thinking was similar, because their lived experiences were about as close to each others as they could be. Xenia didn't feel as if she had to explain herself to James, and she knew that he didn't to her. Their stupid little habits, avoiding crowds and open spaces, sitting with their backs to the wall and facing the door, instinctively looking for a way out or for weapons to defend themselves, all of them were a lot less silly and a lot less weird when they were around each other. Of course they did it. Of course they casually discussed how ridiculously easy it would be to stage a terrorist attack on random places they were passing through, or pointed out to each other not the beauty of the architecture, but it's strategic value for hideouts. They even ended up developing a grading system, one to twenty. Ten was the starting point, plus one for the advantages, minus one for the disadvantages. It had been James' idea. Maybe he'd used the same grading system while planning high profile assassinations for HYDRA. He didn't say, and Xenia didn't ask.

It was only towards the end of James' second week staying with Xenia that they were forcibly dragged back to reality again.

―――

 

They were walking in Moscow's most beautiful park (according to not one, but three of Xenia's neighbors), near the lake. It was a cold and gray day, and workday to that, so that the park was deserted. Which was just how Xenia and James liked it, they wouldn't have come there if they'd known that there would be a crowd. They weren't talking. James had woken screaming out of a nightmare three times that previous night, and almost strangled Xenia once when she'd tried to wake him up. After that, they'd just stayed up together, sitting close on Xenia's bed and watching old children's bedtime stories on her old laptop. They never talked about the nightmares, but those nights always left a strange, sad aftertaste, as if there weren't any words left between them.

It was, unsurprisingly, James who first noticed that something was wrong. His senses were sharper than Xenia's, or maybe he was just more used to danger lurking behind every bush. Whichever it was, he suddenly tensed up.

“Don't show any reaction,” whispered he, barely loud enough for her to hear. “We are being watched.”

Xenia knew better than to react in any way whatsoever, but her senses perked up too. Maybe she hadn't needed to use any of her training in the past forty years, but that didn't mean that it wasn't there. The park was empty, yes, but something was off. Something… Someone was there. Right over there, hiding in…

She pushed James to the side, just in time for the little white disk to fly past him. She landed on top of him, and they both started at the white piece of electronics lying in the grass next to them.

“Electric stun disc,” said James. His tone was flat, but Xenia could sense his surprise. “Attaches to the target person and, on the push of a button, releases electric signals strong enough to knock him out, even through clothing. Very expensive. Where….”

They both turned simultaneously and looked in the direction the stun disc had come from, and the weird timelessness of the moment dissolved, replaced by a rush of adrenaline as they saw a woman jump out of her hiding place.

She was thin, wearing black, and had some kind of gun in her hand. That was about all what Xenia registered, before she rolled off James. Her friend jumped up, and attacked, faster than any human possibly could. Xenia hoped that that distracted the woman enough, and made a run for the lake, where she threw herself into the water. She could feel it soak through her cells, them reacting to the fluid and becoming liquid and transparent. She then rose up, so that she was standing on the surface of the lake as if it were solid ground, and took a moment to get her bearings.

James was fighting with the woman, exchanging blow for blow, but she was strong, and fast, and apparently wearing some kind of mechanic exoskeleton, which made her strong enough to be a serious opponent to the Winter Soldier.

Using her newly acquired invisibility, Xenia hurried towards the duo, careful not to attract any attention, and kicked the woman in the back of her knee, hard. She lost her balance for a moment, just long enough for James to bypass her defenses and land a hit on her head. She collapsed, unconscious.

James stood still for a moment, trying to regain his breath. Xenia stepped closer, willing her liquid form to become just solid enough for him to see her outlines, and watched her friend kneeling down next to the unconscious woman, and going through her pockets.

He found some weapons. Multiple stun discs, and attached to her exoskeleton were two metal rods. She had a communication device in her ear, which he took out and squished under his heel, and had a set of handcuffs on her. James inspected them for a moment.

“Vibranium,” said he.

“Very strong and very rare,” added he, more feeling than seeing Xenia's blank glance.

He confiscated all her weapons, and handcuffed her tightly, than threw the key into the lake. Unfortunately, her exoskeleton was sitting too tightly to take off, so all he could do was to damage it as much as possible.

Xenia didn't say anything while he was working. There were some chances of further spyware filming them, and the less it would learn about her, the better.

―――

 

They didn't go home for a long time after that. Instead, they used their newly gained knowledge of obscure hiding places, wandering from one to the other, trying to shake down any possible followers. Xenia left for practice, while James remained hidden. She'd never been more distracted during practice, and only relaxed a little when she met up with him again, somewhere else. They crept around for a couple more hours before finally deciding to go back to her apartment. All along, they didn't speak more than a few words.

Xenia only became visible again when they were safely back in her apartment, the door locked with every security lock she had installed. Well,  _ safely. _ She had a bad feeling that they wouldn't be safe again, not anywhere.

“Did you see anyone following us?”, asked she.

James shook his head.

“No. You?”

He was very calm and still. Unnaturally so. He didn't even appear to be breathing.

“Nothing. Not even during practice.”

“I don't think they know who you are. Or they would have eliminated you before attacking me.”

Xenia shook her head.

“They will after today. You need to leave. Now.”

James nodded.

“I'll go and pack my things. Give me until half past one, the streets are about as deserted at that time of the night as they will get, and I can sleep an hour or two before.”

Because who knows when his next chance of undisturbed sleep would be. But he didn't say that.

They ate a hasty dinner, and James disappeared to pack his bags while Xenia did her best to prepare him as much food for on the way as she could with what they had at home.

_ They. _ It had only been two weeks, why was she thinking of them as a unit now?

James was sleeping again in his unnatural position, unmoving and stiff on his back. Xenia noticed that, for the first time, he had a loaded gun next to his pillow.

She lay down, but couldn't find any rest. She was afraid.  _ James _ was afraid, and that was much worse. After all, she'd been out of touch for four decades, but he, he knew everything about the players and the dangers. If  _ he _ was afraid, than that meant that there was a good reason to be.

There was. Xenia herself knew that there was. After all, she'd recognized the woman who'd attacked them.

Black Widow was, arguably, the Avenger Xenia hated the most. Or the only one, it was messy. She didn't actively  _ hate _ any of the others, only disliked them and was of the opinion that the world would be a better place would they not exist. They were all Americans, and loud and proud to be so. Very dangerous, and completely tipping the international balance of power, but they'd vowed to stay out of politics and kept their word. As long as they remained on the other side of the world, Xenia was happy not bothering herself about them.

Black Widow was different, for the simple reason that she was Russian. Or had been, for a considerable period of her life. After she deserted to the USA, the master spy Natasha Romanova had used a vast number of fake identities, some of which had been Russian, others American, and quite a few from other nations, so that nobody knew for sure any more what her actual citizenship was. It also didn't really matter, because everybody knew her origins: Black Widow had been a Russian spy trained in the last days of the Soviet Union, who than for some reason had recognized the error of her ways and joined SHIELD to fight the people she'd once worked for.

Those people were a secret organization the Russian government denied any connection with. They'd abducted and abused many little girls during their existence, turning them into master spies and assassins. Everybody had been shocked when they'd been taken down, charities set up to support their victims and their families, even a reportage made about one of the young women returning to her old home and seeing her parents again for the first time since she'd been taken. It had been really touching and heartbreaking.

Black Widow's obvious hatred towards her old abusers was both relatable and justified. However, what Xenia could not forgive her, was that the same hatred had obviously transferred to Russia as a whole. Every time that Black Widow spoke up about her past, Russia got dragged through the dirt. For no reason, since the government hadn't known of the Red Room Program.

And now she was here. In Moscow. Chasing the first person over the past four decades who Xenia actually started to consider as her friend. Didn't she have anything better to do?

And was she alone? If not, who was she working for? SHIELD? Someone else who'd payed her good money to eliminate the Winter Soldier? She'd had some  _ really _ good and  _ really _ expensive equipment on her. They had managed to either take or destroy those, but what if she had more? Whoever had sponsored her, whoever wanted James gone, they knew that he was dangerous and had enough money to help their pet assassin compensate with tech.

James was having another nightmare. He was tense, breathing hard, and words escaped his lips. English. Xenia, who for some mysterious reason spoke fluently English with a Midwestern accent, understood every word, but it wasn't coherent enough for her to guess their meaning.

“Steve!”, James called out, his body tense enough to snap. “No! No! Don't!  _ Steve!! _ ”

“James,” called Xenia softly. “James!”

When she received no reaction, she silently got up, and circled around the sleeping man, to his other side, where she could, very careful not to make and sound, move the gun out of his reach.

“James?” She carefully touched his shoulder. It was hard.  _ Really _ hard. “James!”

He woke with a yelp, and before Xenia could realize what was going on, he'd grabbed her and flipped them around, pinning her to his makeshift bed. His grip was strong enough to bruise any normal human. His lose hair was hanging in his face, and his eyes were clouded and wild.

Xenia didn't move. It probably was the safest, since James clearly was not himself. Who knows what he could do in that state, both to her and to himself.

Eventually, his eyes cleared, and James blinked and let her go.

“Sorry,” said he, and let himself sink down next to her, all the tension suddenly gone from his body to a point where he was barely holding himself upright.

Xenia slid near him, and closed him in her arms from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder. James collapsed against her, and they stayed that way, right until the alarm on Xenia's phone went off. Time to leave.

The streets were dark and empty as Xenia and James hurried along, trying to take the safest way out of Moscow. They had debated public transportation, but decided against it because of the security cameras. Instead, James would walk on foot until some other settlement where he'd maybe take a bus or a train. Xenia wasn't sure what his exact plan was, and knew better than to ask. The less she knew, the better. It was a long hike, but James had walked for days in the past without any rest. He would be alright.

As to Xenia, she had her bags packed and would leave for Saint Petersburg, but not by train. She would accompany James for a while, than take a long succession of buses. Her situation wasn't too bad yet, she probably would be able to come back for her things in a week or two, once she'd found a job and somewhere to live.

James wouldn't know her new address. But he didn't have to. If the Winter Soldier wanted to find somebody, than he did. He would be in touch, if he ever discovered something in relation to Xenia's past. Otherwise, he wouldn't come looking for her, and she would never hear of him again. It was safer that way for both of them.

They had the best route well planned out, through side streets and empty buildings, only that this time, they didn't get to enjoy any of the scenery. Both of them were tense, and Xenia found that she was actually looking forward to saying goodbye to James and watch him leave from her city and her life. She really had enjoyed him being there, and was sorry that it was over. But his company was not worth the danger it put her in.

Had they not both had enhanced senses  _ and _ been hyper alert to any suspicious sounds, the attack would have taken them by surprise. Xenia wasn't exactly sure what had tipped her off. A shadow where there shouldn't be one, a movement in the corner of her eye, a sound that was just a little bit out of place.

Her eyes met James'.

He'd noticed it, too.

And they were both running, through the alley, jumping over a fence, crossing a bunch of gardens, another fence, another street, turning left, turning right, their steps echoing through the silence of the neighborhood, their breath loud but even in their own ears. Someone was following them, that much was clear. They too had abandoned every attempt of subtlety, and Xenia could hear heavy boots closing in on her. Whoever it was, they were able to keep up with her and James. A shadow slid over their heads. Two followers.

Xenia made a split-second decision. There was a spot over there, not the greatest choice maybe, but as good as she would get. She could stand there and face her attacker. There was some cover a little further. If James could reach it, he would be save from the flying one. She could hold off the running one for long enough for him to get away, and that was what mattered now. They were after him, not her. He was the one who was really in danger.

“GO!”, yelled Xenia, and James understood what she meant, because he was sprinting towards the cover now, while she turned and faced their attacker.

Even with her superhuman fast reflexes, she could hardly duck in time to avoid the shield aimed at her head, swung with enough force to knock her out. Without any thought, Xenia aimed a kick at his legs, but he avoided her easily. Xenia pulled back a few steps, light on her feet as if she were dancing, than launched a quick succession of punches, all of which her opponent blocked. He kicked at her, and Xenia jumped easily over his leg.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she noticed James locked in a similar dance with Black Widow, two black shadows in the night. The flying shape went again over them, but this time, it was low enough for her to make out a human shape. They threw something small that hit James, and his body stiffened, than collapsed.

Xenia felt the shield connect hard with her, using her distraction to knock her down with a few strong, well-placed blows. The last one hit her head, and everything went dark.

―――  
  


Xenia came by and remained completely limp. Must be some of her old training, she wondered idly.

She was lying on her left side on a bed, her legs tied together and her hands handcuffed behind her back. One of those really strong metal handcuffs she and James had found on Black Widow, probably. A second body was pressed to her back. James, lying next to her facing the other way. It was silent in the room, but they were not alone. Xenia could feel the presence of other people, but they were not talking and waited motionlessly for them to wake up.

Obviously they hadn't caught on to her being awake yet. Good. That was an advantage. Xenia didn't know what she was supposed to do with it, but it was still nice to have one. It was also a sign that some part of her still remembered the training she'd forgotten.  _ Good. _ She would need everything she could get.

“Shouldn't they be awake by now?”, asked a voice. Male, speaking English, American accent.

“I'm sure they are. I would pretend to be unconscious, too, if someone would capture me. It is very basic training.” A woman, also American.

“So are we just going to wait who moves first now, or….” Third voice. American.

“Oh, totally,” answered the woman.

A gun clicked.

“You can't see me, but I am aiming this gun right at your girlfriend's leg right now,” said she loudly. “You have three seconds to decide whether you want to talk to us, or I shoot her knee. One, two...”

James sighed loudly, than Xenia could feel him struggle in a more upright position. That was sign enough for her. She too opened her eyes, and looked straight at the Black Widow standing next to her with a gun held loosely in her hand. Apparently, she hadn't been bluffing.

Xenia turned on her back to get a better view of the room. It was a small room with a darkened window, lit by a single lamp on the ceiling, with no furniture except for the bed, a shelf, and a table with two chairs.

Two more men were present. The one standing at the foot of the bed and glaring at them with his arms crossed was Black. Wearing a belt with two guns. Xenia had a bad feeling that he should be familiar, but couldn't quite place him.

The second one, she knew from countless pictures.

Captain America was standing at the other side of the bed with his shield on his arm. His uniform did include a gun belt with a gun, but while the stranger looked as if he was ready to draw his weapons in any second, he didn't seem to be very aware of having it. Not that he needed to, the shield was more than dangerous of a weapon enough. He wasn't wearing his helmet, and was staring at James with a very strange expression. James was staring back, his body stiff and tense as it was pressed against Xenia.

“Who are you?”, asked Xenia in Russian. “Where are we? What do you want with us?”

“You know who we are,” answered Black Widow. “And I think you also know very well what we want your friend for.”

“In that case, you have me and don't need her. Let her go,” demanded James.

Black Widow laughed humorlessly.

“Nice try. For once, she is your accomplice, which makes her just as guilty under international law. Also, I am pretty sure that Nick Fury would  _ love _ to hear about how there can be such a highly trained agent running around Moscow without being registered on any list SHIELD has access to.” She turned to Xenia. “Who do you work for?”

“I don't work for anybody,” snapped Xenia back. “You have no right coming here in this country and kidnap Russian citizens.”

“But we do have clearance to neutralize the international terrorist codenamed 'The Winter Soldier', and everyone who works with him.”

“We all know that we wouldn't be here if that was the case,” said James. “What do you really want?”

“Anyone mind filling us in on what you're talking about?”, asked the Black man in English. Xenia suddenly remembered where she'd seen him before: The news. He'd been there when SHIELD fell. A friend of Captain America, they had said, and then promptly ignored him in favor of everything else that had been happening. Falcon.

“We are all trying to impress each other by acting as if we had the high ground,” answered Black Widow. “Nothing interesting yet.”

“Doesn't it kind of ruin your bluff when you admit it out loud?”, wondered Falcon. Black Widow shrugged.

“We all know what we are doing.”

“What she isn't telling you,” said James in English “is that my friend just made a very good point that  _ you can't just kidnap Russian citizens off the street.  _ You are in violation of international law. Let her go.”

“And as  _ I  _ said before:  _ No _ ,” repeated Black Widow.

“What are they saying?”, asked Xenia in Russian.

“That they might let you go,” answered James, who knew perfectly well that she spoke English. “It's all right. Stay calm and leave it to me, I will get us out of this.” He was lying, but it was the kind of comforting lie one would tell an innocent civilian, so he'd understood what kind of impression she was trying to make.

“Ah, cut it!”, snapped Black Widow. “She's no civilian, we've all seen her fight. So I'm asking nicely once more:  _ Who is she?! _ ”

James just glared at her.

The silence lasted for quite a while.

Black Widow was glaring at James. James was glaring back. Falcon was standing there with his arms crossed, glaring at both James and Xenia. Xenia was doing her best to appear harmless and innocent, but only felt bored. Captain America was still staring at James. It was starting to become a little creepy.

In the end, it was Falcon, the one of them who seemed to have the least training in interrogation techniques and mind games, who broke the silence.

“Can't we just let Fury deal with her? I mean, she isn't why we're he...”

Black Widow shot him a murderous look, and he shut his mouth.

“Cap?”, asked she. It was the first time that Captain America looked away from James. He turned his eyes to her, slowly, as if he was pulling himself out of a trance. “It's your mission.”

Captain America turned back to James, who met his eyes calmly. Xenia couldn't see much of his face, but she did see Captain America's, and it was very informative.

“Bucky,” whispered he finally, and his voice was strangely thin.

“Steve,” replied James with a calm and steady voice.

If it hadn't been clear from his previous behavior, so the whirlwind of emotions on Captain America's face upon hearing this one word made it more than clear enough: He was the group's emotional weak point.

“I thought that you were dead,” whispered he. “I… I thought that you were dead.”

“It would have been better.”

Captain America shook his head with a tortured expression.

“No… No. Bucky. Don't say that. Please...”

He took a step closer to the bed and the man sitting on it.

“Steve!”, warned Black Widow.

Captain America froze, than retreated to his original position, still staring at James with so much hurt in his eyes that Xenia actually felt sorry for him.

“I'm not your friend anymore. Let us go, and no harm will come from our part to you or your friends.”

Captain America actually made a little noise to that, something broken and pained that Xenia was sure stabbed right through the middle of the hearts of everybody present in the room.

“Let me go, Steve,” repeated James, gentler this time.

“We can't,” said Black Widow matter-of-factually. “You are too dangerous.”

James nodded slowly.

“Than why didn't you kill me when you had the chance?”

Captain America's repeated pained noise was more than enough answer to that question.

“What do you want? You can't lock me away, and you know that. Nothing can hold me unless I want it to, and...” He shook his head. “I'd rather die than lose my freedom once more. And I think that you know that, too. If you  _ really _ wanted me out of the game, than I would be either dead or in your safest high facility prison by now. So, again,  _ what do you want from me _ .”

“Bucky...”

“Shut up, Steve,” said Black Widow.

“You are right,” said Falcon. “We don't want to lock you up if we can help it. We'd much rather make a deal. So I propose that everyone here tries to say honestly what they want from the others, and we than try to find a middle ground? I know how to moderate discussions like that, so if you all let me, I can help find a solution that everyone is happy with.”

“You can do with me whatever you like, if you let my friend go.”

“No.”

“She told you the truth, she is a civilian. I am the only one who dragged her into this.”

“She is in it now. And don't think that you can fool us. She almost outrun Steve. And she was there with you in the park, she did something in the water. Anyone with that kind of power is too dangerous to be left unsupervised. You know it.”

James looked Black Widow straight in the eyes.

“You want me, you let her go. This is my only deal.”

“You know, you don't  _ have _ to take Falcon's offer. We can just decide what to do with you without your input.”

“You won't hurt him,” said Xenia in English. At least Falcon looked surprised. So that part of her plan had worked. She was sorry about having to abandon the rest, but Black Widow was right, there was no way she could convince them of her being harmless.

Well, if she couldn't pass as harmless, she still had another option left: Try the opposite. James had said that the group she'd belonged to had been a big name, back in the day. Xenia herself couldn't remember anything about it, but that didn't mean she couldn't use it to her advantage.

“This man is under my protection.”

“You speak English?”, asked Falcon.

“She's a spy, of course she speaks English,” sneered Black Widow. “Who are you and who do you work for?”, asked she Xenia. “HYDRA is no more. Whatever fragment you belong to, you have not enough power to make demands to  _ us _ . How do you know this man, and what is your interest in him?”

“I am not HYDRA,” snapped Xenia. “You Americans should finally get into your heads that the world does not revolve around you. There are more powers than those two organizations you just so happen to be involved with. My name is Xenia, and I am a Guardian of the Fatherland. At the moment inactive, but that will change if you keep provoking me. James is my friend, and he is under  _ my _ protection. You are trespassing on Russian soil and abusing of powers you have not. So I suggest that you let us both go  _ right now _ , or you will have made yourself an enemy you do not have the power to withstand.”

Her words were followed by a surprised silence.

“The Guardians of the Fatherland are a myth,” said Black Widow once she'd digested what Xenia just said.

“They really are not,” said James. “I've met them.”

“I hate to ask, but  _ who _ ?” asked Falcon.

“The Guardians of the Fatherland. Elite team with superhuman powers made up from members from all the peoples of the Soviet Union. Fighting for the good of us all. It was propaganda that by my time nobody took seriously any more. Or so we thought. Somebody must have gone through an awful lot of trouble erasing all trace of them.”

Xenia smiled at her.

“As I said, you do not want to have me as your enemy.”

“Falcon is right,” said Captain America, who still was more interested in James than anything else that was going on. “We won't solve the situation like this. I need to talk to Bucky.”

“He's here, you can talk to him now,” pointed out Xenia.

“Alone.”

James pressed a little bit closer against her. Xenia grabbed the fistful of his clothing that she was able to reach with her tied hands, trying to be reassuring.

_ I won't let them hurt you. _

“No.”

Captain America looked pleadingly at her with his wide blue eyes.

“No,” repeated Xenia. “He is not going anywhere without me.”

James intensified the pressure for a short moment, enough to signalize  _ Thank you.  _ Xenia responded in kind.  _ I'm not leaving you. _

“ _ Bucky... _ ”

Forgetting about what happened before, Captain America took a step closer to his prisoner, and reached out for him. James tried to recoil, but was blocked by Xenia. Captain America looked even more hurt than he'd done this far.

“It's me, Buck!”

James shook his head. He was good at keeping his emotions in check, but even he seemed to begin to slip.

This was the moment Falcon exclaimed “Oh!”

Everybody turned to look at him in surprise.

“He still hasn't regained his memories!”, explained the flying man. “Steve, he cannot remember you!”

“But...,” begun Captain America helplessly.

“ _ That _ is why he doesn't trust us!  _ That _ is why he spent the last few months trying to outrun us! It is probably even the reason why he contacted Xenia. She is the one person he actually remembers.”

“It would also explain why he is being so professional,” added Black Widow.

“But...,” repeated Captain America, standing in front of the man who, according to the Internet, once had been his closest friend. Only two steps separated them, and yet it felt like light years.

James looked calmly in his eyes.

“He's right.”

His words seemed to hit Captain America like a physical blow. All color left his handsome face, and his blue eyes looked suspiciously wet. He stepped back, but the proud strength he'd been radiating was gone. He even put down his shield, leaning it against the wall.

“So far, you haven't given us much reason to trust you,” pointed Xenia out.

“Probably not,” admitted Falcon. “We have been looking for Sergeant Barnes since we found out that he is still alive. Steve used to be his friend. We are trying to help him.”

“Give me one reason why we should believe you.”

Xenia was doing all the talking, because James was staring just as intensify at Captain America as Captain America was staring at him. He was very tense. Maybe he was having flashbacks again, Xenia could only guess. No matter how painful they were, he wouldn't show any weakness in front of an enemy.

“Because we are actually equipped to deal with the situation?”, offered Black Widow. “I know the reputation of the Guardians of the Fatherland, but you are still alone and inactive. You said so yourself. Hiding a brainwashed HYDRA agent is not your best course of action.”

“He is under my protection.”

“So you said. But who is protecting the people around you from  _ him _ ? You are in one of the biggest and most important cities in the  _ world _ , and no-one except for you here has got any kind of training. You claim to care about the good of Russian citizens? Than prove it. Let us take over from here.”

Xenia hesitated. As much as she hated to admit it, Black Widow had a very good point. She wasn't concerned about her own safety, but the people around her, that was a different question. Since she'd taken him in, James hadn't done anything dangerous or unpredictable, but he still could easily kill every single person in the building, should he decide to.  _ James _ never would do that, but the Winter Soldier was not James, and if someone managed to trigger his conditioning… It was almost too bad to think about.

“You could always come with us,” proposed Falcon. “The team was were welcoming towards me, I'm sure they would love to have someone with your experience.”

“I'm not leaving Russia,” said Xenia reflexively.

“They're right,” said James, defeated. “I'm too dangerous. They're right….”

“James,” said Xenia, at the same time as Captain America said “Bucky.”

James shook his head.

“I can't be just left running free unsupervised. HYDRA is not dead. They'll come after me. I am too dangerous to be around.”

“Bucky,” repeated Captain America. His eyes were overflowing with pain.

James, who seemed to have been talking to himself, looked up and finally smiled at his old friend. A sad, painful smile.

“I don't even know who I am, Steve,” said he quietly. “I can't come with you like this. There are so many holes… I don't even know who I am.”

“I understand,” breathed Captain America. He took another step forward, cautiously, as if he were approaching an animal, or a ticking bomb. “It's all right. Bucky. Let me help you.”

Slowly, James nodded.

“All right.”

Captain America sighed in relief.

“Let them go.”

It was he himself who took the handcuffs off James. As he did so, he took his hands into his own and held them for an unnecessary long moment. The tension that had been between them all along seemed to become thick enough to be cut with a knife, but than Captain America let go, and James pulled his hands back, and both of them looked into two opposite directions.

―――

 

Xenia and James had only one moment for themselves, just before he left with the three Avengers. He was tense, but determined, and both of them had the decided feeling that this decision was  _ right _ .

“You know where to find me,” said Xenia. Their hurried departure meant that nobody knew about it. She hadn't even quit her job at the circus. She could simply return that evening and pretend that nothing had ever happened. “If I don't hear from you for more than a week, I will come and find you.”

“Do you even remember, how to go on about it?”, smiled James.

Xenia smiled back. A sharp, dangerous smile.

“I'll figure it out.”

James grinned. She would miss him. She would miss him so much.

He regained his seriousness very fast, and took a step closer to her, while glancing at the Avengers, who were busy talking to someone out of earshot over a communication device.

“Xenia,” started he in a low voice.

“Yes?”, whispered she back.

“The rumors about Steve and me on the Internet…”

“You know about them?”

He shot her an amused look.

“They're on both our Wikipedia pages,  _ of course _ I know about them.” He took a deep breath. “They're true.”

The information snapped together some pieces in Xenia's mind, connecting things that so far had not really made any sense, but now were just simply so painfully  _ obvious _ . The speculation in the circles obsessing over Captain America that he and his friend James Buchanan Barnes, had in fact, been lovers. So very common as far as celebrities are concerned, that Xenia had thought nothing of it.

But the way the two had been staring at each other. The heartbreak in Captain America's eyes when James hadn't recognized him. The fact that he and his friends had followed him over half the world and (Xenia was still certain about this) had broken international law multiple times while doing so. The way James would call out for a  _ Steve _ during his nightmares, feeling with his hands around him without even waking up. As if he was looking for someone, someone who wasn't there.

_ Of course _ those two had feelings for each other. Xenia mentally kicked herself for not noticing it before.

“How long have you known?”

“A while. I've had some… memories. But I wasn't sure that they were real and not just my imagination. Now I'm certain.”

Xenia shot another look out of her corner of her eyes to the three heroes. Captain America was wearing a costume modeled after the American flag, that was admittedly somewhat weird, but also really close fitting and great in putting the accent on his muscular supersoldier body. She didn't like him too much, but that didn't mean that she wouldn't spend a considerable time appreciating his looks, given the right opportunity.

“He's very handsome,” whispered she.

James smiled tenderly.

“You should have seen him before he was injected with that serum.”

Xenia almost replied that she had, she had seen pictures of Steve Rogers before the War, before becoming Captain America. He'd been small, and skinny, and nothing compared to the body he had now. But she didn't, because this wasn't about looks, not really. It was about two boys in the 1930's New York, a place on the other side of the world where she had never been, in a time, when – or so they estimated – she'd only been a little girl.

“I'm happy that you remember,” was what she said instead.

“But that's it,” whispered James, as the Avengers terminated their call and Captain America waved for them to come closer. “I hardly know anything. I'm not even sure who I am, Xenia! What am I supposed to do now?”

They started walking towards the Avengers, and Xenia threw an arm around her friend.

“You know a lot more than you did when you came to me,” said she. “And that was enough for us to become friends.”

They hugged goodbye, than Xenia turned to Black Widow.

“If you hurt him, I will kill you all,” promised she in English for all to understand. The master assassin nodded in acknowledge.

Than they all stepped into the private plane, and James was gone.

―――  
  


Three years later, Moscow was in ruins.

Xenia was tired enough to sleep for three days straight, but there was so much to do, and so she was up early. She checked in on her teammates, than sat down and opened the secured channel she used to talk to James, every week, as promised on the day he left.

It was around midnight in New York, yet she found the two Avengers fully dressed, waiting at the camera. James was wearing black pants, a dark red shirt and had his hair tied to a pigtail, while Captain America was in his usual blue jeans and white shirt that was only slightly smaller than it should have been.

“Xenia!”, exclaimed James. “We were worried, what happened? The news.. Are you alright?”

“I'm fine, James,” answered Xenia. They were talking in English for Captain America's benefit. “The situation is under control.”

“Are you sure?”, asked Captain America. “The Avengers are on high alert, we could be there within...”

“Stay out of Russia.”

“Are you sure? Because we really are happy to help, if...”

“Just as we are very happy to interfere with whatever crisis you have going on in New York at the moment,” said Xenia sweetly. “Really, you only have to ask.”

“Understood,” said Captain America drily. “I'll just go than and tell the team that the emergency is over.”

James waited for his lover to quit the room, but as soon as the door closed, he was turned back to the screen.

“Seriously, we saw the news. How are you doing?”

Xenia sighted.

“I'm fine,” repeated she. “Just tired. Moscow had been evacuated, there were no civilian casualties.”

“And the others?”

“They're fine, too. But I believe that we are going to have some serious discussions about battle strategies and team building over the next weeks. It was closer than it should have been.”

James shrugged.

“That's normal. It is often very close here, too. We only have very good PR management that covers it up. Talking about, Director Fury is on his way to Russia now, to meet up with your...”

“Major Elena Larina.”

“Yes, her. He had a brief conversation over the phone with Tony, and he sounded  _ pissed _ . Secret organizations that he didn't know about do this to him.”

Xenia grinned.

“Good. The Avengers have become too powerful. It is time for someone else to step in and keep you people a little balanced.”

“So it is true true? The Guardians of the Fatherland are together again?”

“Just the Guardians. Our old name is too...”

“Soviet.”

“Yeah.”

No matter how out of character that was of her, Xenia beamed. This was it, this was what she had been dying to tell James all along. Nobody else knew yet, not even her own teammates or Major Larina. It was, after all, a very recent development.

“James. I think that my memories are returning.”

Right up to this point, James had been standing, but now, he sat down. He would be there, ready to listen to his friend just as she had been listening to him when he had been trying to make sense of his own memories, the chaos of good and bad and terrible.

It was different for Xenia. The return of his memories had been painful for James, and confusing, and accompanied by a whirlwind of extremely strong emotions. She, however, felt calm. Maybe, she hoped, yet another sign that her past was not quite as dark as her friend's. And…

She lifted her hand, the one with a simple golden band on it. For so many years, the only thing that was left her of her past.

“And I believe that I now know who gave me my engraved ring.”


End file.
